


Fun at the Movies

by meandmybrokenfeels



Series: NaNoWriMo 2016 One-Shot Collection [11]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M, One Shot, movie theater AU, sophomore year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-09-01 15:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8629561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandmybrokenfeels/pseuds/meandmybrokenfeels
Summary: Everyone's favorite Check Please side character is spending his days working at a movie theater to try and save up some cash. One night, the Samwell Men's Hockey Team decides to stop by.
(Set during Bitty's sophomore year/Jack's senior year, so Jack and Shitty are still on the team and Dex, Nursey, and Chowder are all the newbies.)





	

Ted Samson was working 30 hours a week at a local movie theater in order to save up some cash. He knew paying back his student loans was going to be a bitch, so he tried to get ahead by picking up as many hours as he could. Not that just-over-minimum-wage jobs were going to be the greatest, but it was better than nothing.

“Yo, Fry Guy, some kid took a dump in a urinal. Can you go take care of it?”

He couldn’t wait to get a job that didn’t have restroom maintenance as a responsibility. It didn’t help that his coworkers all insisted on calling him Fry Guy. You make _one_ serving of fries _magically_ appear out of the broken fryer and suddenly you’re a hero. It was his third day. He was so confused. The name just kinda stuck, and now even the managers called him by it.

“I’m on it,” he sighed, dutifully marching over to grab the necessary cleaning supplies. He knew all too well how to deal with situations like this.

He cleaned through the 7 o’clock mini-rush and completed his list of tasks. Tuesday nights were never very busy, so he could usually get off early. Resting against the short wall of the box office, he allowed himself to relax for a moment. “I never want to see another public restroom for as long as I live.”

Chad, the ticket seller for the evening, agreed. “Why are we here, again?”

“We need the money,” Fry Guy reminded him, “and earning just over minimum wage for mindless work is about as good as it gets.”

“I’m thinking of applying at Annie’s,” Chad said. “I would have already, if the place wasn’t always being visited by-”

They were interrupted by one of the heavy glass doors up front banging open and a group of people crashing in. One was holding his head, the rest were laughing at him, and one was trying to get a good look at the first one’s forehead. She wasn’t having much luck.

“-the hockey team.” Chad visibly deflated before forcing himself to straighten up and paste on a corporate-approved smile. The crowd pushed open the second set of doors, still talking loudly over each other as they ran into his box office. “Hi there! Welcome to-”

“Duuude, it’s a fucking lax bro!” the tall blond said to the one he was never seen without. It was either Ransom or Holster--he could never remember which one was which. 

“What’s a lax bro doing here?”

“Shits, it's just a little red mark. You're fine.”

“I hit my head on a fucking tree!”

“Shitty, calm down and don't try to sue the place for your own clumsiness. I’ll get tickets.”

“Everyone remember that we don’t need to get concessions! I brought the you-know-whats!”

“Bits, subtlety, please.”

Fry Guy blinked in the face of such chaos. It was difficult to recall the quiet stillness that had been settled over the lobby only minutes before. Chad sighed and waited for the team’s captain to push his way to the front of the group. Once the tickets had been purchased and distributed, the small blond ushered them all to theater eight, echoes of their racket slowly dying down as they moved further into the theater.

Fry Guy and Chad went back to lean against the counter and talk to Harper. “You know them?” the concessions worker asked, gesturing with their head towards the door the group had disappeared through.

The two who’d been up front when they walked in looked at each other and grimaced. “Not particularly,” Chad said. 

“That's an understatement,” Fry Guy pointed out. “They're all on the hockey team at Samwell. The guy who hit his head on a tree and won't stop laughing? His name’s Shitty. I don't think anybody knows his real name. Last week, I was coming home from work after closing, and he was sitting on their roof singing Toxic by Britney Spears. It was terrifying.”

“It couldn't have been that bad,” Harper laughed. 

“Did I mention that I'm pretty sure he was naked?” Fry Guy added. “If he was wearing anything, I certainly couldn't see it.”

“Man, that’s nasty,” said Chad. 

Fry Guy figured he should probably be checking the theater to make sure the hockey team wasn’t destroying the place, but he figured he would be able to hear it from the counter if they did anything too horrible. Besides, he and his coworkers were well into swapping stories by this point. 

“Dude, remember that time when Magic Mike was playing and we had to clean up after it?” Harper asked.

“Oh, God! Wasn’t that the day a group of old ladies asked if we were going to dance for them?” Chad added. 

“That was so horrible! I had to step out just to stop myself from laughing in their faces!”

“I know! You left me alone to fend them off with my broom.”

“That’s nothing. One time I was working in the box office and this couple came up, arguing about what movie they were going to see. They decided to go to the chick flick she wanted to see, and then she turned to me and loudly whispered that she knew her punishment for this was going to involve a strap-on and cheese.”

“Okay, you win. That’s the worst.”

The group had to quickly suppress their laughter as they spotted a guest leaving a movie, but it was just the captain of the hockey team on his way to the bathroom. They waited a few moments to make sure nobody else would walk in before continuing their conversation.

Chad began an intricate story about all the times he’d found condoms on theater floors when he was interrupted again. Fry Guy saw the little blond baker head straight to the bathroom as well. He ignored them, and the story soon resumed.

The story telling session was ceased once more--this time by a middle schooler. He left a different theater a bit down the hall and went into the bathroom, but left swiftly and approached the group at the concessions counter.

He looked scared, but also like he was trying to stay cool. It wasn’t working. “There’s, uh, something going on in there,” he stammered, pointing back at the restroom.

“Okay, we’ll check it out for ya,” Harper promised. The kid looked grateful as he scurried to the bathroom on the other side of the lobby. “Alright, Fry Guy, this one’s all you.”

Fry Guy groaned. “This is why I hate ushering.” He picked up his broom and butler and headed towards the scene of the ‘something’. 

Once inside, he immediately understood what had terrified the child. Underneath the door of the middle stall he could see four legs, one pair significantly smaller than the other. He would’ve assumed that the smaller one was in the wrong restroom, along with being in a likely compromising position, if he hadn’t heard the moaning.

In the midst of the “Oh, _Jack_ , honey, _yes_ ,” and the low growls, he caught the sound of a body being slammed against the wall, followed by a gasp.

This was not the situation he’d wanted to find himself in that evening.

Having gathered that the couple he’d walked in on was, in fact, the hockey captain and the little baker on the team, he wasn’t sure what to do. He definitely didn’t want anybody else to walk in on it, but he wasn’t about to report it and force them to do the walk of shame out of there in front of everyone. He finally decided that an awkward, anonymous interruption was the best way to handle it.

Fry Guy went over to the stall next to them (cringing, as since they were in the middle one he couldn’t get any farther than that) and loudly slammed the door. The couple froze, and the room went silent apart from the echo of the banging door. He went over to the sinks and began to run the water, washing his hands and saying, “Gee, I sure hope I don’t miss too much of my movie. Especially since the tickets cost so much! I would hate it if I didn’t get my money’s worth.” Not bothering to grab a paper towel, he raced out of the restroom as quickly as he could, trying not to hear the frantic whispering and tell-tale sound of a zipper being pulled up. 

He dove behind the concessions counter, crouching so he could just see over the top. First out was Jack, the team captain. He speedwalked back to his movie, cheeks flushed. A minute later, he was followed by Bitty, his cohort in the escapade, moving much slower but with his face equally as red. Chad and Harper watched in silence until they were sure they were alone. “Dude, what the hell happened.”

Fry Guy thought about what he had just witnessed. “Oh, you know. Someone just shit in a urinal. Same crap that happens here every week.”

Chad raised an eyebrow. “Then what was going on with the hockey bros in there?”

_I think they’re a lot more than bros now._ “Hell if I know. I think the little one was tweeting about it.”

“That’s weird, man,” Harper commented.

Fry Guy laughed awkwardly. “What can I say, that hockey group is a weird bunch.”

Chad groaned. “Tell me about it. So, this one time, my buddy Chad and I were trying to go down to this bake sale ‘cause the kitchen was empty, and then those big guys, the defensemen, they…”

Fry Guy tuned out, seeing on his schedule that he had a movie to clean. He politely stepped out of the conversation as Chad continued to get more and more agitated. 

By the time he got to theater eight, he walked in to find several athletes going through the seats and picking up what little trash there was. They filed out, some carrying armfuls of bags and cups, one wearing a backpack much flatter than it had appeared when they arrived. Fry Guy swept up the few remaining popcorn kernels and candy bits that were still on the floor, begrudgingly grateful to the hockey team for helping him out.

_Maybe they’re not so bad after all_ , he thought, heading back through the lobby on his way to clock off…

… only to find Shitty, high as a kite, loudly serenading the team’s manager from the top of the concessions counter. The second half of _Hey Jude_ could be stomached only at the best of times, but his rendition was truly horrendous.

_I changed my mind. I just want to be free._

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been working at a movie theater for over a year now, and boy have I collected some stories. What better way to share them than in countless AUs of my favorite characters? Also, yes, these things have (almost) all happened in real life. 
> 
> Special thanks to Leah for getting me unstuck and to my coworkers for sharing their stories. I hope you enjoyed reading, and look forward to many more tales being told.


End file.
